


The Pieces of Boris's Body

by americandreamboat



Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Hurt/Comfort, Jennifer's body au, M/M, mr. decker is a bastard, that's literally it - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29168604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americandreamboat/pseuds/americandreamboat
Summary: Jennifer's body/ the goldfinch AUBoris acts really weird after he gets sick at Theo's house one night.The story is not /Exactly/ like jennifer's body bc idk who chip would beYou'll scream, you'll cry, you'll laugh
Relationships: Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	The Pieces of Boris's Body

**Author's Note:**

> just for the record if u see this I am the person who made the goldfinch/jennifers body au tumblr post so I just felt the need to follow up on that. (follow me on tumblr @iamnotbright) lol

It was one of those rare nights where Theo had the house entirely to himself. His father and Xandra were somewhere at a hotel or casino or something and Boris was called home by his father. 

So he had nothing to do but watch TV and watch Popper prance around begging for scraps of whatever was leftover from Xandra’s job. 

Growing up in New York meant that Theo was used to noises outside. Sirens, traffic, airplanes, people talking down on the streets and in hallways; it comforted him in a way. The silence of the desert unsettled him. Every couple minutes the air conditioner would clunk to life and wheeze cool air throughout the house, but Theo had memorized that sound. It played in his head even when it wasn’t on, one thing to remind him he wasn’t alone. 

The sound he heard over the air conditioner that night was not comforting. It was not a siren, the murmur of voices or even just a car passing by. It was the sound of something bumping in his house, something breaking into his house. 

He sat up in his seat and stretched to look at the front door. It was slightly open and Theo could see Popper start to make a run for it so he scooped him up and shut the door, a cool breeze brushed past him. Theo leaned against the door, his heart thumping in his chest. 

Popper started to growl and bark so Theo put him on the floor where he immediately sprinted into the kitchen. It was then that Theo noticed the drops of blood on the floor leading into the kitchen. He took a step forward. He couldn’t hear Popper barking anymore, but he didn’t hear a whimper or anything either. He listened to the fridge being opened and shut, then a familiar voice cooing. 

“Do you want these? Huh, Popchyk? Here,” the voice was Boris’s, Theo realized in relief. He stepped all the way into the kitchen, expecting Boris in one of his sweaters eating out of a take out box. 

The sight he was met with was more out of a horror movie. Boris was sitting on the floor, surrounded by blood, eating whatever was left of a rotisserie chicken with his fingers. He was covered in blood, especially his torso and shirt and hair. And it was running down his mouth. Popper was there too just outside the blood puddle chewing on a piece of chicken. 

Theo’s heart sank as he could only think of one possible answer for this: Boris’s father. 

“Boris?” Boris looked up at Theo with a sinister, bloody smile. But there was something in his eyes, something scared and hurt. 

Theo dropped to his knees next to Boris and reached out but Boris flinched away. 

“Boris are you okay? Did your dad do this?” He asked in a barely a whisper. Boris gave a slight nod then projectile vomited something black all over the floor. Theo was able to get out of the way and yank Popper with him, but the kitchen tiles were toast. Oh well, it wasn’t like he’d never cleaned up vomit off the floor before. 

Boris wiped his mouth off on his sleeve and moved so quickly Theo didn’t realize it until he was being pinned to the wall by Boris’s suddenly strong hands. 

His mouth was near Theo’s throat as he whispered “Are you scared, Potter?” 

Theo couldn’t speak. He could only nod and hope Boris could feel it. 

Then Boris was gone. Theo heard the door shut and slumped down the wall where he was greeted by Popper with black, dripping paws. He looked around the room where the blood and black vomit was still there, still real. 

  
  


Theo hadn’t heard from Boris at all. After he left he mopped up the kitchen, turned all the lights off and went to sleep with one eye open. Popper slept at the foot of his bed. 

At school Theo wasn’t sure what to expect. What he found was definitely not it, but it was better than the alternative. 

Boris sat in seat looking great, actually. His black hair was pulled out of his eyes and looked soft, his skin was glowing and his eyes were bright. The smile he gave Theo when they saw each other made Theo’s heart jump. He was still wary though. 

“Boris,” He said, meaning to say more but was interrupted by the teacher clearing his throat. 

“I regret to inform you that there has been some sort of animal attack near the strip so we’re supposed to tell you to stay safe an-” 

“So?” Boris Interrupted. The teacher stared at him, not sure how to continue. So Boris did. 

“This is Las Vegas, people get killed all the time, no? Why’s this different?” 

The teacher cleared his throat. “We’re just trying to prevent more killings, okay, Boris?” 

Boris rolled his eyes and slumped back in his chair. He played with his hair for the rest of the hour, avoiding the looks scrutinizing looks Theo gave him. 

“That was totally harsh, Boris,” Theo mumbled as they walked down the busy hallway. 

“What, is true. Don’t people get killed everyday here?” he walked faster than Theo who had to speed up a little to keep pace. 

“Yeah, but-” 

“But what, Potter? You didn’t know them. What does it matter to you?” 

Theo didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t. The outburst wasn’t exactly out of character, so Theo just assumed Boris was having a bad day. 

After school they both got drunk by Boris’s sand filled pool but Boris wouldn’t talk about that night. 

“Are you okay though? You were puking, like, slime,” Theo asked staring at Boris’s face. He was looking for any indication of the illness that had consumed Boris just a few nights ago, but his face was calm and smooth. 

“Is nothing, Potter. Don’t worry your little head about it! I’m fine. I’m better than fine, I’m a god.” 

After a few seconds of hesitation Theo opened his mouth to question him but the sound of the sliding glass door grabbed both of their attention. 

Boris’s father stood there in the doorway, half in and half out of the house. His shiny black shoes got smacked with flying sand the longer he just stood there, gaping at Boris. 

Eventually Boris said something Theo couldn’t understand and his father responded quickly before retreating into the house, shutting the door behind him. 

“What was that about?” Theo asked.

Boris took a sip from his beer and shrugged.

“I don’t know. Something spooked him I guess.” As he put the bottle down Theo caught a sly smile on his lips. A satisfied smirk of a job well done. 

Theo didn’t comment. 

Nothing too out of the ordinary happened until around a month later, when they were sitting at the tall table in Theo’s kitchen.

To be honest, Boris was not looking too good. Theo didn’t dare mention it but his skin was paler than usual and his hair looked damp with an oily sheen to it. He didn’t move his arms around as much when he talked, and when he did he winced like his shoulder was sore. 

Theo was having an easy time not mentioning it but it was ruined when his father came in the room and took one look at Boris. 

“Theo, your friend is looking a little worse for wear,” he said as if Boris couldn’t hear him. Boris’s eyes slid to Theo's father and stared daggers into his soul. Mr. Decker didn’t notice. 

“It is just a cold,” boris muttered as Theo watched him tear the skin off around his fingernails without even flinching. 

Mr. Decker nodded understandingly and exited the room. Theo stared at the little pile of dead skin on the table.  _ That  _ was not a cold symptom he’d ever heard of. 

When Boris caught him looking he brushed the pile off the table and hurried to the door. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine tomorrow,” he said, opening the door ready to leave. 

“Are you going to take some medicine?” Theo asked, following him. 

“Uhhhhh. Yes,” Boris answered as he shut the door on the way out. Theo just stood there, dumbfounded. Boris had never run off like that before unprompted. Even when they were leaving the store with pockets full of stolen candy Boris wouldn’t rush. He was too cool to rush. He sauntered everywhere like a stray cat who owned the alley. 

Just as he said, the next day Boris showed up to class looking fine again. Theo noticed a little color in his cheeks and the redness of his lips when he smiled. Theo felt better now that Boris was feeling better, even as their teacher told them the grim news about another dead tourist, ripped open and eaten alive. The police were now wondering if it was the work of a serial killer, a horrible cannibal, so people were to stay in their homes until they were caught. 

Boris laughed. “Who’s going to stay in? This is Vegas!” 

Nobody disagreed with him. But nobody came right out and agreed with him either. The classroom was just full of people tilting their hands and whispering to each other until the teacher gained control of their attention again. Boris picked at his fingernails. 

  
  


The fight was a bad one, despite not knowing what exactly it was about. It could have been about Theo’s dad saying something about his mom, some missing pills or earrings or just about a mess Popper had made and then blamed on Theo. The shouting between the adults and Theo got muddled and he ran out of the house into the dusk outside as if he were escaping a fog. 

He ran until he reached the swing set then plopped down on one of the swings. He kicked at the dust under his feet, unsure what to do now. He knew his dad and Xandra would get over it. Whatever was bothering them. They usually forgot by the next morning and Theo would be at school all morning anyway so he wouldn’t have to talk to them. 

He took a deep breath. He didn’t know how long he would have to stay out here before they cooled down. The sun was setting quickly and Theo suddenly had a feeling he was being watched. His mind trailed to the warnings from his teachers and the signs posted all over the school. Be safe, don’t walk around alone at night. 

But nobody ever came to this neighborhood in the first place. No one delivered or even drove past, it would be a terrible spot to look for a victim. Or a great spot to bring a victim to kill without anyone noticing. 

He decided it was better than another screaming match with his dad, at least, and stayed kicking the dirt and wishing he had brought some drugs or a book or something. 

It was all the way dark when Theo heard something from behind him. Someone walking, but not stealthily, like they didn’t care if they were heard. 

He turned around to see a figure walking down the street. Dripping. Theo held his breath, hoping it wouldn’t see him. Then the figure stopped under a streetlight and turned its head to stare directly at Theo. 

It was Boris. Covered in blood but seemingly unhurt. He glinted a smile at Theo then ran off, faster than Theo had ever seen him run in gym class. 

Theo’s heart raced as he also sped home, once in his life wishing for the car to be in the driveway, but it was gone. Xandra and Mr. Decker were out of the house. The only thing that could potentially protect Theo was Popchyk. 

As Theo slammed the door behind him and locked it. He didn’t hear the pitter patter of dog nails on wood. The little dog was missing.

Theo looked out the window to where the figure stood under the streetlight. It was long gone now, hopefully back to its own house. 

His own house. It was Boris. Right? Theo saw Boris’s face under the streetlight covered in blood and calmly walking. 

Theo decided to ignore it and go to bed. He didn’t think Boris was a threat. In fact he looked hurt. As he climbed the stairs Theo made a plan to visit Boris in the morning before school to check on him. 

But he didn’t need to. Theo startled when he flicked on the lights in his room to find Boris on his bed cuddling with Popper. He was fine. No blood, no cuts, no bones poking out from weird places. In fact, he looked really good. Theo wanted to push Boris’s hair out of his face and run his hands through it. But he wouldn’t admit that. 

“Boris. What the motherfuck?” 

Boris just glanced up at Theo. He didn’t answer, just put Popchyk on the bed beside him and stood in front of Theo, staring into his eyes. 

“You know Potter,” Boris said, reaching up and lifting Theo’s glasses on top of his head. “I’m not gonna bite you.” 

“Is that my T-shirt?” Was the only thing Theo could say before Boris leaned in and kissed him softly. At first Theo panicked, having a hundred crises at once, but when Boris stepped away and leaned back onto the twin sized bed, Theo followed him and leaned on top of him, connecting their lips again. 

They stayed like that for just a little while, until Theo’s eyes snapped open and he pulled away, tugging his glasses back down his nose. 

“What the fuck is happening?” He said, panting, while Boris laughed. 

“I-I saw you! All covered in blood!” Then, quieter, “What do you want from me?”

Boris stopped laughing and looked into Theo’s eyes. 

“I just want to explain some things to you, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

“Remember that night when I came to your house, I got really messed up. My dad and his business friends, they’re like totally evil Satan worshippers. They drove me out into the desert in this old van full of skulls and candles and shit and said some spooky magic incantation about sacrificing a virgin and my dad stabbed me in the heart. A couple times.”

“They killed you?” Theo whispered. 

“I’m still here, aren’t I? I mean, they did go all Benihana on my ass with that knife and it should have killed me. But for some reason it didn’t.” Boris picked at his flawless nails as if the subject bored him. 

Theo had tears in his eyes. “Maybe it did.” 

Boris shrugged. “All I remember is waking up and making my way back to you.” 

“I remember. So wait, they sacrificed you to Satan but you’re still here?” 

“Yeah. They got something wrong.” 

“What?” 

“They said they were sacrificing a virgin.” He pulled a smirk.

“You’re not a virgin?” Theo asked, amazed.

Boris laughed. “Not anymore than you are, Potter.” 

Theo’s face went red as he stood up, but Boris pulled him back onto the bed. 

“Watch this, Potter. When I’m full I’m basically, like, unkillable.” He snatched a pen off the nightstand and stabbed and dug it through his arm before Theo could grab his arm away. 

“No, no, wait, look.” They both watched as the wound sealed up again and Theo brushed his fingers across the skin to make sure it was really gone. It was. 

“Wait, what do you mean when you’re full?” Theo glanced at Boris’s face. Boris was just smiling. “It’s not that big of a deal, they were just tourists.” 

Theo stood up quickly. His mouth worked faster than his mind as he told Boris to get out. 

“Boris, you need to leave, now.” 

A frown crossed Boris’s face and he turned around and marched to the window. He opened it and before Theo could ask what the hell he was doing he had already jumped out and disappeared. 

Popper ran to the window and barked until Theo closed it, making sure Boris wasn’t dead on the driveway below. He wasn’t. There wasn’t any trace that he’d been there at all. 

  
  


It wasn’t often that Theo would find himself walking to Boris’s house in search of comfort. Especially now that he knew Boris wasn’t… well? Alive?  _ Human? _

That he ate people to keep up his looks and didn’t even feel bad about it? Theo cursed at himself as he walked down the dark street to Boris’s house. It wasn’t the first time he wished their houses were closer together, but he hoped it would be the last. He was trying to pull away from Boris as best he could without raising suspicion. He just wasn’t comfortable with the killing and eating people, if you could believe it. 

But Boris was still his best friend. They still sat next to each other on the bus and partnered up together in class. But Theo found himself rushing home before Boris could ask him to stay over and avoiding his calls.

Theo rubbed his face with his cold hand, trying to choke down sobs. The door to Boris’s house was already open when Theo walked up the driveway, Boris standing in the light wearing a large red sweater. He took a step forward to meet Theo, and didn’t hesitate when the smaller boy fell into him.

Theo couldn’t stop the tears anymore and he buried his face in Boris’s sweater. Boris had his arms wrapped around Theo fiercely protective, as if someone were threatening to take his friend away. 

Boris guided Theo inside the house and they slumped down together on the couch, one of the few pieces of furniture in the house. 

“Shhhh,” Boris whispered to Theo. Theo hiccuped and nuzzled in closer, hating himself the entire time. This boy had killed people. This boy was undead. This boy was just a boy.

After a little bit Theo calmed down and wiped the tears from his eyes with his sweater sleeve and pulled back from Boris.

“Theo…” Boris said when he got a good look at Theo’s red cheek. 

“Theo did he hurt you?” 

Theo nodded. “It was my fault. I started it.” 

Boris wrapped his arms around Theo’s neck, holding him closely. 

“That Bastard. You know it’s not your fault, is never your fault.” 

Theo closed his eyes and inhaled Boris’s scent. It was the same as when they first met, even after he became a dark thing. 

It was different when Mr. Decker told Theo to forget about his mom and his old life. When Boris told Theo “Move on.org, Theo, it’s over!” In a joking manner when Theo got too sentimental he laughed with him. 

When his father says something similar Theo pushes him, a rubber ball against a brick wall and he gets slapped in the face. 

Theo hugged Boris closer to him, trying to make up for the past couple of week’s abandonment. He knew he couldn’t stay away from Boris for so long again, even if he was evil.

They were just tourists he killed, right? 

  
  
  


Theo’s dad was dead. The next night he finally got the courage to go back home where Xandra accosted him at the door. 

“He was found in the middle of the desert. Torn apart! They said he looked like lasagna with teeth!” She wailed. 

Theo let out a jarring laugh, startling himself and Xandra. 

“What’s so funny? Your dad is dead!” She sobbed into her hands. One of her friends came up and guided her back to the living room couch while Theo just stood in the entryway, stunned. He knew who the culprit was, it had to be the boy whose house he just left. 

Theo didn’t cry. He watched the ladies in his living room drink wine and sob as he fled up the stairs to his room. He grabbed a bag and shoved some clothes in over the tightly wrapped package that held his metaphorical heart. It was the least of his worries now. 

At last he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small pocket knife, one his father had given to him when he was very small, much too small to have such a thing. Theo thought: If only dad could see me finally use it now. 

He ran down the stairs and out the door to the fading shouts of Xandra calling his name, only stopping once to pick up his little white dog. 

  
  
  


He was happy, that night, that their houses were far apart. It gave him ample time to make his plan. Popper wiggled under his arm but he didn’t budge. He could feel the cold metal of the pocket knife weighing down his pocket. He knew what to aim for, he’d done some research on Xandra’s laptop.

You had to stab the demon in the heart to kill it. Easy peasy. 

Somehow Theo just knew the house was empty except for Boris. He didn’t bother knocking, he just walked right into the empty house and walked quietly to the landline to call for a cab. 

If his plan was to go correctly, he would need a quick escape. (He would need one anyway, he didn’t know what would happen with his dad gone.) 

He dropped his bag and the dog by the front door then silently crept up the steps. Boris’s door was already partially open, pale light poked into the hallway. Theo slowly pushed the door open to open Boris laying on his bed with a cigarette between his fingers. He took a long pull and looked at Theo. He looked awful. Pale skin, greasy hair, dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he barely had enough strength to lift the cig in his hand. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Theo asked, not moving from the doorway. 

Boris smirked like he knew he had lost. 

“This is what happens when I’m empty, Potter. Not a pretty sight, is it?” 

Automatically Theo wanted to tell Boris that he wasn’t right, that Boris always looked good. But he didn’t. 

“What about my dad? Didn’t you kill him?” 

Boris shrugged. “No. I knew you wouldn’t like it.” 

Theo took a step forward. Boris didn’t say anything, just sucked on the dying cigarette while eyeing the knife in Theo’s clenched fist. 

Theo walked all the way to the side of the bed and brushed Boris’s hair out of his face. 

“You’re not going to stop, are you?” 

Boris shook his head. “Never. I like it, Potter. I feel so scrumptious. You know when we did it the first time and our bodies felt like they were on vibrate?” 

Boris looked into Theo’s eyes. 

“It feels like that.” 

Theo plunged the knife into Boris’s chest with a grunt. Boris’s eyes flickered down to his bleeding chest and furled his brows. 

“My tit…” He muttered, almost so quietly Theo didn’t hear him. 

The sound of Popchyk barking made him get up and run out of the bedroom. The cab must have arrived. 

Theo swiped his sleeve over his eyes and grabbed his bag and Popchyk and walked out the door. He left it open, confident nothing was following him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Years later, on a dirty street in New York, Theo was walking. He was in search of drugs, and frankly didn’t care where they came from. 

He knew he was being followed. 

He had a sense for that sort of thing. 

But when he turned around he didn’t expect his childhood friend all grown up, smirking at him. 

“Boris… how are you alive?” He whispered, scared of what Boris would do now that they were reunited. 

Boris laughed, weakly. 

“Like I said, Potter. My tit, not heart.”


End file.
